


The Blade's Edge

by Philosophercat



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Character, Asexual My Unit | Byleth, Blue Lions Students-centric (Fire Emblem), Eventual Romance, F/M, M/M, Multi, Necromancy, Other, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Queerplatonic Relationships, The power of friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27306391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philosophercat/pseuds/Philosophercat
Summary: Felix Hugo Fraldarius is dead. A young man needs an avenger. After a botched ceremony leaves Felix stranded between life and death, it is up to the friends he made in life to set things right.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 2





	The Blade's Edge

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea that struck me after a certain, uhm, mishap during a Golden Deer playthrough. I've reworked the idea to work with the Blue Lion route. I hope you enjoy this purely self-indulgent story as it unfolds.

A sword has pride of place at the Gautier estate, its promise unfulfilled. Those who remark on the blade are in awe of the craftsmanship of the legendary swordsmith who forged it all those years ago. It has tasted the blood of many foes, the story goes. The hand that wielded it is still now, and gone is the restless soul driven to ever greater heights of strength.

It takes some cunning, but the thief pulls off their aim and the sword of the Shield’s Successor is lost, claimed by the night as surely as that man claimed before his time. We follow the sword into the darkest forests of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, to the home of Alexius Hodder. The young mage gingerly handles the sword of Zoltan, runs a finger along the pattern running around the edge. There is little left now that he has paid off the thief. It didn’t quite cost a king’s ransom, but maybe a king’s right hand. Yes, it was a swordsman’s ransom and some of it is still owing.

Alexius will see to it that the rest is paid. He has prepared for this moment through research, training, and fasting. He lived on the very idea of this moment, when the instrument of his relief would come into his hands. He closes his eyes. It is too late now for stupid questions of ethics. His avenger will come to strike down his foes, just as he did in life. He will come for his blade, an edge that was all but an extension of his body. The soul would know it, long for it. And that would lure him back to the world of the living. It was inevitable now.

He prepares the sigils that would protect him from the spirit world. He arranges the space in his study, a laughably mundane place for bringing back the dead. Here is where the sword will lay, and there the solid form of Felix Hugo Fraldarius will manifest out of the smoking incense, first a specter and then a body invulnerable and at his command. Alexius' brow is wet. His throat closes around the words.

And then it is done. Alexius timidly approaches the body laying almost peacefully on the makeshift altar. The eyes open, uncertainty clouding them before they fix on the summoner.

"I am your master. You must obey me," croaks Alexius, sealing the ceremony.

"No."

"But you--you have to kill my enemies!" Alexius was growing faint. The ceremony had worked, hadn't it? Felix was off the altar now, clad in his regalia, and more still than perhaps was safe for Alexius had he known anything about the man other than his reputation for prowess with the sword. He looked fine. Better than fine. Perhaps he needed more time—time to adjust. When Felix didn’t say anything, Alexius continued. “I raised you from the grave for this.”

Finally Felix turns towards him, his dark eyes searching the young man’s face. “You are a skilled healer, but that is all. I have to get back to—“

“But you don’t understand!” Alexius moved and his hand was instantly imprisoned at the wrist. “You don’t understand,” he said forcing his voice to be calm even as his panic grew. “I’m not… a healer.”

“What’s that talk of the grave, then?” Felix did not let go. “And I’m not going to fight for you—I don’t even know you. At any rate, you will need to be a lot more persuasive than ‘obey me’ if you want my help.”

“I am Alexius. And you… you were dead until just now. You have me to thank for that. I-- I brought you back.”

Felix tightened his grip on the man’s wrist. “What nonsense!”

“You’re hurting me!” Alexius cried. “I told you everything. You… you have to obey me. I am your master. Let me go!” Felix all but threw the man’s hand away, sending him reeling.

“Ugh! I’m leaving,” said Felix. “You can keep your fantasies to yourself.”

“Just try to!” said Alexius suddenly bold. “Go on…” he eyed the circle he had drawn around the altar.

Felix sneered. “What are you-- What is this?” He had risen and was standing at the very edge of the circle, his hands exploring the air. “Dispel this right now or I’ll—“

“It’s not a spell,” said Alexius excitedly. “It’s a ward against the undead. Against what you are now… You have to obey me, not because you want to, but because you have no choice. I am the one who brought you back. As soon as I disrupt this circle, your will is mine.

“Go to hell,” said Felix lurching forward. “The dead are dead, and the living the living. I don’t know what you think you’ve done to me, but this ends now.”

“I see what I will have to prove it to you,” said Alexius. “Fine.” He broke the circle. Felix strode up to him and grabbed him by the front of his shirt with one fist, his other clasped around the hilt of his sword.

“All I see is a weak, arrogant little worm,” said Felix. “Stay out of my way.”

“Drop your sword,” croaked Alexius. “And keep your hands to yourself.” The sword clattered to the floor, Felix’ hands went nerveless. “It is as I said. You will obey because you must. You have a second chance at life, Felix Fraldarius! You should be grateful; it is more than most people get. And in return I have a weapon… I have you, the instrument of my vengeance.”

“Instrument of my vengeance?’ Is this some kind of twisted joke? You even sound like a second-rate villain.”

“I’m a victim,” said Alexius. “You’re only hostile because you don’t understand. And once you have finished serving me, you can pop off back to the grave if you please.”

“Serving you? You mean killing for you. That’s what this is all about, right? You pull these tricks to get me to cut down other human beings because you are too weak to do it yourself.”

“A hundred evil men.”

“Are you sure this isn’t hell,” Felix shook his head. “--because hell is a cheap knight’s tale and I seem to be in it if I’ve ever seen one… You should have summoned a knight if you wanted an avenger, worm.”

“I have you, regardless.”

“I will not kill for you.”

“As if you have a choice,” said Alexius. “Take up your sword and follow me.”

And Felix Fraldarius followed.


End file.
